The Night Before The Morning After
by RavenWriter89
Summary: The Doctor could calculate potential timelines of the smallest event, but the geometry of human interactions sometimes escaped him." Set during School Reunion.


_Written for the lovely _thirty2flavors for her birthday._

* * *

"Very nice, Sarah. You've done well." The Doctor looked around, poking various things in the front room.

"Well, it's not much, but it's enough for me," Sarah Jane said, as she moved past him into the kitchen, K-9 rolling obediently behind her.

"It's not bad, is it?" he asked Rose, who was standing just behind him.

"Yeah," she said. Sarah Jane had said that going back to the TARDIS was too dangerous, and when she offered for them to stay at her place, Rose had been the first one to agree, then became oddly silent during the car ride here.

"If this is what comes with alien investigation, count me in," Mickey said, looking around the spacious room. He followed Sarah Jane, and Rose followed him. The Doctor realized he was suddenly alone, and quickly went after them.

Sarah Jane already had put the kettle on and put several mugs out. "I thought we could all use a cup of tea to help think things over."

"Good idea," the Doctor said. "Excellent for the synapses, tea. Here, let me help –"

Sarah Jane cut him off. "No, thank you, Doctor. I've seen what happens when you try to 'improve' things. I can manage."

"Oh. Right. Okay." He sat at the table beside Rose, who he could have sworn was hiding a smile. Well, it was better than her earlier mood. Mickey had hardly been any help, acting smug and talking about a dance.

The Doctor was quite good at maths, and could see familiar patterns emerging. A triangle didn't work since there were four people. A square was too straightforward for this combination. Perhaps a pyramid? Something three-dimensional, at least. Was there a shape where all the points connected to each other? He would have to look in those school textbooks to see if humans had found one yet. If he was going to use a metaphor, he might as well use one he could share.

"Sugar?"

Sarah Jane's voice snapped him back to reality but before he could answer, Rose said, "He takes two. No cream."

"Alright," Sarah Jane said, and the uneasy silence returned.

Something had just happened between the two of them, likely the three of them, possibly all four. It was hard to decipher exactly what was really being said under all the niceties. The Doctor could calculate potential timelines of the smallest event, but the geometry of human interactions sometimes escaped him.

Sarah Jane turned to neutral territory for her and started talking to Mickey. The Doctor turned to Rose and opened his mouth before he was entirely sure what would come out.

"What do you think those krill things want with a school?" she asked, completely throwing him off track.

"Krillitanes," he corrected automatically. "And whatever it is, it can't be good for the children. But that's a good question, what's in a school? And why chip oil?"

"Healthier students?" Mickey piped up. Everyone stared at him. "What? Maybe they want to fight obesity or whatever. Rats can't be that appetizing."

"What makes you think they're eating the rats?" Sarah Jane asked.

"It's like Rose said, people don't dissect them anymore. Maybe it's a midnight snack for bat people." Mickey looked around, half-defensive, half-worried.

"That's a good point, actually," the Doctor said. "Like fattening up cattle. But it's too public, too open. No, there's something else."

He sat there contemplating while the others tried to make small talk. He wasn't paying them much attention until Rose yawned loudly mid-sentence. Sarah Jane seemed to forget her earlier resentment and became the natural mother figure.

"No wonder you're exhausted, after the day we've had. I only have the one spare room, but we'll fix you up for the night. The others can fight over the sofa."

"The thing is," said the Doctor, ignoring what Sarah Jane had said, "there must be another reason for the oil. It can't be to make humans tasty. They can't even touch it, so why risk using it in the food?"

Rose stood and followed Sarah Jane. "Right then, I'm off to bed. See you lot in the morning. Save some plotting for me."

The Doctor continued talking before his mind fully registered what had passed. His speech skittered to a halt. "Right. Bed. Of course."

The geometry snapped into horrible clarity. Sarah Jane would be going to her own room, which left the three of them; Rose in the spare bedroom, and he and Mickey...somewhere. He normally wouldn't think twice about joining Rose. They had shared quarters before, when nightmares of the werewolf made her seek him out. But to brazenly follow her with Mickey present seemed...wrong.

Thoughts of Mickey being the one to follow her, however, made the Doctor's veins pulse in a strange familiar/unfamiliar way. He hadn't reacted like this since meeting the Captain. And now there was this terrible sense of expectation. Mickey knew Rose wasn't his anymore, but didn't want to acknowledge it in so public a manner.

Because of course Sarah Jane would witness it as well. And whatever she thought of it would stay hidden unless she felt it necessary. There were too many lines connecting them, too many angles to consider. He remembered why he started travelling with only one companion.

Mickey still hadn't moved, or spoken, or even looked at him since Rose left. If the Doctor didn't do something, Mickey might feel he needed to offer a solution and whatever it was, the Doctor wanted to avoid addressing it as much as Mickey. He was good at avoiding.

"Well, Mickey-boy, better rest up for tomorrow. Take the sofa; I won't need it."

Mickey's eyes widened and the Doctor realized what he had said. "You what?"

"No! No, no, I mean I don't sleep. Well, not as much as humans anyway. No, you can sleep. I'll...I'll reacquaint myself with K-9."

Mickey visibly relaxed, although he tried to sound casual about it. "Cheers, Doctor. See you tomorrow."

"Night," he said absently as K-9 rolled over. Soon the only sounds were the whirring of the sonic screwdriver, the soft snores of Mickey, and, if he concentrated, the rustle of sheets from Rose's room. He wondered if _Rose_ had expected him to join her as Mickey did. The implications caused him to dive back into the futuristic wiring with insane focus.

Too many lines, too many angles. He listened to the ticking of the kitchen clock and wished for morning when this would be over.


End file.
